Kiss the Snake Good Night
by Memory in Crimson
Summary: When Caleb seeks out Elyon in the book store, he runs into Cedric and recognizes the dangerous serpent. Cedric says he's willing to help the Rebel Leader now but for a high price.
1. Common Ruse?

**"**Kiss the Snake Good Night"

by Memory in Crimson

**Tags:** Animated universe, Alternative universe, implied slash.

* * *

><p>When the Guardians and Caleb had learned that Elyon Brown was the long-lost Princess, they had debated for many hours whether to tell her, even at the risk of her not believing a single word, or keep her title secret from her, at the risk of losing her to Phobos. They chose to tell her naught, and therefore, they decided to take turns watching Elyon's movement, if the enemy should boldly kidnap her.<p>

One day, Caleb decided to venture into the book store, where Elyon had been hired by (as she and Cornelia had described) 'the cutest, most hunkiest guy with golden locks and dark, loving eyes.' Caleb rather scorned the girls' loosely-given perspective on a man whom none knew well. Above all, he was concerned with Elyon's safety. What if this handsome man desired more of her than her book store duties? The Oracle and the Mage forbid the unsavory!

The young man stepped inside the store. He called, "Elyon!"—and waited but received no immediate reply. He called again: "Elyon! Are you here?"

"She isn't working today," replied an eerily familiar voice from the back of the store. "She and her family are out of town for the weekend."

Caleb's heart sank slightly, but he walked towards the back.

"Well, do you know where she went and when she'll return?" asked Caleb.

Hard soles marched upon the wooden floor towards the young man. The figure rounded a corner as he replied, "I've not the slightest idea of where, but she should be back by... tomorrow... eve... -ning..."

The blond man's speech mechanized upon seeing the crossed-arms Caleb. The youth cocked his head, slightly annoyed at the man's gawking. But he stared back at him long enough to realize who this 'cute, hunky' store owner was.

_"You!"_ hissed the Rebel Leader. "I don't have to ask what _you're_ doing here."

Cedric awoke from his reverie, but his countenance carried the same shock. Then Caleb shoved him in his chest and by his shoulders. He snarled, "Some nerve, seducing little girls—"

"Pardon _you_?" Cedric scowled and glanced around the shop. "Will you meet me further back?"

"Indeed! Pardon me, I haven't the trust to—"

"I have _customers_."

Caleb glanced askance at one of the few people who had fixed their sights on their altercation. If he had had his druthers, he would have beaten the serpentine creep into a bloodied pulp, witnesses or none. However, Yan Lin, his earthling caretaker, had warned him often about the laws of her land. He had barely escaped the capture of earthling police many times, often out of ignorance of their ways or in the line of duty for the rebellion.

"Fine," conceded Caleb, and he bowed mockingly. "After _you, _your Lordship."

"Humph! Sarcasm does _not_ become you," said Cedric. He turned and marched to the back of the store, towards his office. Caleb trailed distantly behind the serpentine lord, preparing the wrestle the old sinner if he so much as bared a fang.

"Now," said Cedric with a huff, "what business have you here?"

"Other than to keep you from dragging Elyon back to your sinister Master?"

_"She_ cannot be 'dragged' to His Majesty, she has to come on her own accord," whispered Cedric. "You know this."

"Well, you're not getting the opportunity to lure her in," hissed Caleb. "And I'm willing to set up a fight with you to settle this! Away from your precious customers."

"I don't intend that."

"What do you mean?"

Cedric glanced over Caleb's shoulder. Pulling a key from his breast pocket, he unlocked the door to his office and entered. Caleb hesitated when the lord said, "You can join me or not. But if you choose the latter, then I shall be obligated to take the Princess immediately upon her return."

Caleb glowered and growled. Against his mistrust, he entered and allowed Cedric to shut the door.

"Don't you dare lock it, though," he said.

The lord stopped himself. He unlocked the door and leaned against it.

"So I've found you out," said Caleb. "Now what should I do? Or rather, what do you plan to do with me, now that I've found you out? Gonna transform and eat me?"

"I don't intend that, either."

"Well, what _do_ you intend?" Caleb crossed his arms.

Cedric merely lowered his head and averted his gaze. Caleb waited for the old serpent to gather his thoughts, and just when he was about to snap at him, the older man quietly replied, "Help you."

"What did you say?"

"Only a little."

"With what? What _exactly_ did you say?"

Cedric strolled closely to Caleb, who backed away from him. But the lord passed him, turned around, and leaned against his desk. He sighed and removed his glasses.

"I take the greatest risk in betraying my superior. But he and I have arrived at... an impasse, and I feel that I can no longer be held to the same loyalty to the Prince as I once felt."

He replaced his glasses upon his face before continuing. "Young Caleb, I consent to your cause: the restoration of Metamoor and the legitimate Heir of Escanor... But my service doesn't come for free." And he began to pace slowly before Caleb.

"What do you want?" growled the youth. "No... How can I even trust you?"

"Any information is good information, Rebel Leader. You know this."

"Not after you tricked me at the sands of Torus Filney."

"I've changed since then..."

"Not to me you have."

"You don't know all the sins of Prince Phobos."

"All the more horrible they must be, if I don't know them! And reason enough to take you _both_ out of power."

Cedric's face turned red, and a fire had been stoked in his eyes. Just as Caleb prepared himself for a fight, Cedric snarled, "So you need proof? Very well. I shall give you your damned proof!_"_

Then he unbuttoned his shirt and turned around, peeling it down to his lower back. Caleb's eyes widened as he gazed upon welt after welt that had turned that flawless, golden flesh into raw and red and agonizing just to gaze upon. Even some scabs had cracked and bled that day, it seemed. Caleb bit his lips together and reached out, eliciting a hiss.

_Oh yeah, they're real enough_, he thought.

Cedric turned and buttoned up his shirt.

"That... that… I mean… how do I know… just… hnn." The Rebel Leader was at a loss for words. Though Phobos had little respect for life in general, Cedric was his pet. He stuck closely to his Master, like a well-fed hunting hound. What-ever caused the arrogant monarch to beat him must have been serious, but on the bright side, it seemed as though that whipping had whipped some sense into Cedric.

"I'm only lucky that this is all to which he has subjected me," said Cedric, and Caleb knew that that could not be more true. "But it has shaken me enough to make me question whose side I should be on."

"And when _were _you planning to meet up?" asked Caleb.

"Not in Meridian. That's for damned sure."

Caleb hummed affirmingly.

"So what _are_ you willing to do?" asked Caleb.

" 'Give,' actually... in exchange for something of equal... or greater value."

"Ha!" Caleb scoffed. He walked to and leaned against the door. "Figures. Well, what do you want?"

Cedric approached him, only to have those young green eyes warn him against getting any closer. He sighed and replied, "I am willing to divulge vital battle information to you in exchange for _my_ choice of recompense."

"You're serious?" Caleb raised an eyebrow, but Cedric nodded. "Seriously?"

"And now that we have established contact on earth, a nice, 'safe' place to meet, I doubt that anyone should trouble us."

"But wait!" The Rebel Leader crept closer. "What is it that you want in exchange?"

Cedric smirked and leaned uncomfortably closely to Caleb, nearly closing the gap between them. He replied, "You must give yourself to me."

"How?" This looked ominous.

For a moment, Cedric smirked and then chuckled boyishly. Removing his glasses, he fluttered his eyes and asked, "Tell me, Caleb, are you... are you a _virgin_?"

"What? _What?!" _Caleb's back collided against the door in a flash. "Oh, no way. No way in the world! No way ever—No—" He chuckled nervously. "You are absolutely mad."

"I suppose that's such a rude thing to ask," said Cedric, "although I'm not very keen on virgins. Far too squeamish, most of them; I have to do all the work. But sex is the price for my information. It's that or no deal."

"Are you out of your cold-blooded mind? I am not some prostitute!"

"No one said _you_ were. _I_, on the other hand, have no qualms exchanging favors."

"_That's_ very clear!" exclaimed Caleb, rolling his eyes. "So what if I say no? What? You'll turn me in?"

"No... I won't," said the older man solemnly, and he marched towards the door and opened it for him. "I'll give you a day to decide"—he held up a silencing hand before the jabbering youth—"and _when_ you return, what-ever your decision is, I swear upon my life that I shall not turn you in."

"No. No, I need a vow that's much harder for you to break. I need you to… How about you swear upon your_ mother's_ name?"

Cedric tensed, and his left eye twitched, giving Caleb reason to smirk.

Aaronagim, as Cedric's folk were known on Metamoor, were a poorly-understood group. They were a private lot, and many strangers who had entered their territories rarely returned. But a few useful bits of information, which lucky adventurers had discovered, floated around outside of the Aaronagim. And Caleb had learned that 1) the lords spoke of their ladies with great reverence and terror and 2) a son would therefore _never_ break an oath under his mother's name; why, he would sooner break it under a _god's_ name!

"I swear by the precious name of my Lady Mulga," began Lord Cedric, "I shall not turn you over to my Master."

Caleb raised an eyebrow of slight doubt, but his smirk never faded. Of course, he was not going to return to the book store, especially after that disgusting display. The pervert! He was worse than a lying snake; he had a snake in his trousers, as the earth saying went.

"Very well," he said. "It's a vow." And he departed from the store.

_A day, he says_, scoffed Caleb. _Maybe I should go back… that is, after I grab a couple of rebels and take him by surprise here. He'll finally be out of the picture, the old serpent._

He had considered telling the girls first but quickly discarded the idea. Damn their obsessing over pretty faces! A person did not need to look like a bloodthirsty beast in order to be one. Did they not understand that appearances were not always revealing?

The young man sighed again and leaned against a brick building. The image of humble-headed Cedric returned, his violet eyes dulled by genuine shame. Caleb thought, _Of course, he could have a chance for reform. I know that Vathek was not totally willing to join the Rebellion at one time—he truly had no idea of whom to trust! Poor guy, but Cedric..._

Caleb shook his head and continued down the street to the Silver Dragon. He entered through the kitchen door, fetched his apron, swallowed back his pride, and stepped into the restaurant to take orders.

"So, how did it go?" asked Yan Lin at one point.

"Why did you not tell that she went out of town?" retorted Caleb.

"Perhaps she is safer outside of the influence of Phobos's forces. This world is large enough, Caleb. You must not worry so often!"

Caleb smiled. Then Yan Lin added, "Plus it isn't like she's got a tracking device. None of that GPS stuff!"

Caleb had no idea about what she was talking. Yan Lin replied, "Just get this dish out to its table, dear," and the smile returned to Caleb's face.

_Perhaps I should tell her, at least, _he thought, _though leave it to her to probably tell the girls. At least, she's more believable than I am... Maybe, then, I shouldn't tell._

The hours in the restaurant seemed to pass faster than usual. Caleb decided that after work, he would seek out the girls and update them on the details of the next rebel plan.

"Don't even!" cried Yan Lin before her strolled too far. "The girls are spending time at the beach."

"The beach?" he exclaimed. "What about Will?" From how often the redhead complained about her mother, she at least might be home.

"Well, it's not like me to lie, but I told her mother about a 'science trip' way in advance. No permission slips needed."

"Why?"

"Oh, trust me. Will will owe me _big_..."

Caleb raised an eyebrow. So the little grandmother was more of a conspirator than she showed? How bold!

"See ya, Yan Lin," said Caleb, and he strolled out to the sidewalk. "I'll be down at the park getting some fresh air."

_And cleaning out my thoughts._

* * *

><p><strong>Annotations:<strong> It's been almost 8 years since I first published this tale. Then in 2012, circumstances beyond my current comprehension led to the destruction of this and many other fanfictions I wrote.

It's been years since _W. I. T. C. H._ has been on the air, and I figured many fans have since moved on. But now that I have my copies again, I've updated the tale so it approaches a higher standard and uploaded it.

**Disclaimer:** The author, Memory in Crimson, makes no claim over Disney's creations, and the author makes no monetary gain from writing this fan fiction.


	2. Take the Bait

**Chapter II**

Caleb thought himself lucky as he strolled through the park. It lacked the bustling, noisy crowds that typically flocked to it during the weekends.

_They must all be at the beach,_ he thought with a shrug. All the better for him to clear his head without any screaming children and raucous parties with strange, earthling customs.

"Hey there!" called a familiar, feminine voice in the distance.

"Oh, hey!" Caleb leaped from the bench. "Elyon, what are you doing here?"

"I've got that same question about you," she chirped.

_"Me? _I looked for you at the book store! That man said you'd be back by tomorrow evening."

"Oh, that silly thing! I told Rick that I'd be back by today, on _Friday_. He can be so forgetful!"

" 'Rick'?" Was that the earthling name he was going by? "I only know him as 'Cedric.'"

"You know too?" Elyon leaped to Caleb's side. "He's even dreamier with a gorgeous name like Cedric, isn't he? I mean, you probably don't know being a guy and all, but oh my gosh! He's such a sweet heart!"

"Huh... Uh, yeah, sure..." said Caleb, much to Elyon's confusion.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Caleb sighed and looked into her eyes. He replied, "Elyon, I want you to be careful around Cedric. You don't know him like I do."

"You've met before?" said Elyon as her eyebrows knitted.

"Elyon"—he held her by her shoulders—"I want you to be very careful."

He sighed and took a moment to gather his thoughts. Yes, he needed to keep her from Cedric, but he the story to sound credible and not so magical. "He never really got charged for anything, and it could be he's an otherwise innocent guy, but please... I care for you. And Cedric is more dangerous than he would ever dare to show. I don't want him taking advantage of you like _that_. Do you understand what I mean?"

Elyon squirmed. "What did he do?"

"What he_ might _have done... and it was to a close friend of mine... a girl about your age."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"I'm pretty darned sure. And even though the police let him off, like I said, I don't want him taking advantage of you. I'm not saying you should quit, but you definitely shouldn't be alone with him."

Elyon's frown deepened. She was naive, but she wasn't that naive. If she thought Cedric were some sort of predator, then maybe—hopefully—she would drift from Cedric until she finally stopped working at the shop altogether.

Her tight hug surprised Caleb in the next moment, but he warmly returned the embrace. Then they strolled down the long, idyllic path out of the park.

"I can't believe that Cedric could do anything bad," she began as they walked onto the city sidewalks. "He's so well-mannered."

"That's how people like him get away with a lot," said Caleb. "They act all sweet and neighborly, do a good deed or two to through people off their trail."

"So he can get away with murder? So to speak," she added.

"Exactly."

"Huh..."

Elyon stopped in her tracks, looking deep in thought. Despite her down-trodden appearance, Caleb knew that he was doing the right thing.

_Buzz buzz!_

"Oh!" Elyon snatched her cellular phone from the pocket of her turtleneck sweater. "Hey Mum!"

A pause. "I'm good. I'm with Caleb right now." Another pause. "We were at the park, but he's escorting me home." A wink and another pause. "No, I didn't see them there," she replied sombrely, and another pause followed. "No, you can still pick me up by... mmm... the Silver Dragon. We're not that far, actually." Brief pause. "Love you too, Mum! Bye!"

Elyon closed the cell phone and returned it to its pocket. She glanced at Caleb and said, "Okay, let's go."

He smiled and nodded and continued on their way.

They arrived at the Silver Dragon in almost no time and parted ways at Mrs. Brown's car.

"See ya, Caleb!" chirped Elyon as her mother drove home. "And thanks!"

Caleb waved his farewell and entered the restaurant. He headed towards the kitchen and went down the stairs to sleep in the basement as usual.

_Air smells fine,_ he thought, noting the delightful absence of Blunk. _He's probably still looking for stuff to smuggle—_

"Oh, I'm sorry!" He bowed mockingly as if the passling were there. "I mean, 'legitimately barter,'" and he chuckled as he plopped on his bed.

"Hello! Hello-o-o!" went the sing-song voice of Cornelia as she stepped down the stairs. "Where's our little rebel fighter?"

_Oh brother..._

"Hey, there!" Cornelia sat besides him, uninvited, and leaned closely. "Where were you? We went to the beach today, and you didn't even show up to meet us here beforehand. You didn't get to see me in my new bikini!"

"Well, if you had told me that Elyon was out of town, you would have saved me a Metamoor of trouble. And what's a bikini?"

"What about Elyon?" asked Irma. "She's not back 'til tomorrow afternoon."

"Did every one think that?" grumbled Caleb, and he sat tall. "For all I knew, she could have been abducted, and we would have had no way of tracing her."

"Abducted!" shouted the four girls.

"You know that Phobos can't take her unwillingly, right?" asked Hay Lin. "At least, I hope that's right."

"So you saw her today?" asked Taranee.

Caleb smirked. "I met her at the park. Her mothe called, and from what I could guess, she must have been looking for you guys. She seemed sorely disappointed.

"Hey! Where's Will?" he interjected. "She ought to be here so I don't have to give the lecture twice."

"Oh, we dropped her off at her home," replied Hay Lin.

"Oh, no!" gasped Cornelia suddenly. "Poor Elyon—I've gotta call her!"

"Well, make your calls outside," grumbled Caleb. "I've been through a weird day, and I want to wake early before I leave for Meridian."

"Why so 'weird'?" asked Hay Lin.

"Never mind him!" exclaimed Cornelia. "We've gotta call Elyon and make sure she's okay. She probably thinks we're not friends any more," and with that, she yanked Hay Lin by the arm and marched up the stairs, Irma and Taranee in tow.

Caleb yawned and stood to turn off the lights. He slipped off his shoes, slipped into his cot, and lay with his hands behind his head. He had more thinking to do than he pleased, and he was glad that rabble had taken off.

_I'm not telling them a thing,_ he thought._ I'm not even telling Yan Lin! Cedric is not even getting a reply from me—I don't trust him to be so friendly a second time._

Then Caleb remembered that awkward question_—"Are you... are you a virgin?"—_and the mean in which Cedric had delivered the proposition.

_He is out of his serpentine mind! _ he thought._ You'd think with the way he fawns over Phobos—'My Prince, my Prince!' blah! blah! blah!—he's probably slithered under _his_ robe by now. And who'd sleep with someone who'd slept with that sicko despot?_

And with that staunch thought in mind, Caleb pulled up his covers and rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes and hoped to fall quickly asleep, but:

_On the other hand, he looked pretty damned sad. His eyes made him look like a hound that had been kicked one too many times. And those scars? Maybe I should see him and negotiate his price... maybe something less dramatic like a kiss on the cheek._

For the rest of the night, the young man tossed and turned in his cot, obsessed with the deal; and as the new day rounded the corner, and a hazy somnolence was the only sleep that Caleb got, he came to the conclusion that:

_Cedric _must _have more to himself than being a fork-tongued deceiver. It used to be that people didn't speak of Aaronagish nobles with just fear. At one time, they had respect. They had _earned _respect. Maybe he deserves a chance to prove he's worthy._

One of the clocks upstairs rang softly. A sliver of sunlight bounced off the clean windows of another building and pierced the gloom of his room. Caleb groaned and stretched his sleepy muscles. Then he slipped off, straightened the cot, and donned his boots. He crept upstairs, looked for his key in the kitchen, and stopped outside, locking the door behind him.

_Barely a body in the street_, he thought, realising how obnoxiously early he was. He marched through the empty streets towards the bookstore.

_He'll have to check his stock in an hour, or so Elyon's said before, _he hoped. _I'll just wait outside until he... wakes me again._

Caleb yawned. Cursed earthling life, he was becoming soft and sluggish. He wondered what the lord thought of the carefree culture and how he managed to stay on guard.

Caleb glanced at his watch (a gift of the girls, of course) when he arrived at the book store. He moaned.

_One whole hour to recuperate_, he thought, sitting in front of the door._ I hope that earth's police don't mistake me for some vagrant_, and with that final thought, he took a light snooze, dreaming about sweet Cornelia, while waiting for his rendezvous.

But in his dreams, Cornelia's face kept morphing into Cedric's face with his trademark smile.

_Click click!_

"Wha?" Caleb jerked from his sleep as the door trembled against his back. He stood and watched Cedric unlock the doors.

"You're early," said the young rebel with a yawn and stretch.

Cedric smirked softly. "You did not have to come so early. You could have come at closing time tonight."

Caleb scoffed and slipped passed him.

"I would have, but my girls tend to worry if I'm not home at night."

"Ah," sighed Cedric. "How motherly!"

While Caleb strolled to the back, Cedric locked the doors. He followed him and opened the door to the office.

"I had planned for you to disappear for good," said Cedric. "I would not have blamed you, though. When I was a young man, I had to beat off older males with a stick... and occasionally my tail. Hoho!"

"_Yeaaahhh_... Interesting..." sneered Caleb.

The lord's face softened with solemnity, and he continued: "But I'm glad that you came, even if it is to say 'no.'"

"Yeah, of course..."

An uncomfortable silence descended. Caleb cast his gaze upon the humble-headed Cedric, who leaned against the door and suppressed a bitter hiss.

"Back still hurt?" asked the rebel.

"Hmm?"

"Your back?"

Cedric chuckled softly and sadly. "The ointment usually works more quickly. It also tends seep deeply, so much so that it goes into the blood stream and makes one weary. And a smidgeon cranky. So forgive me if I bite your head off—metaphorically, of course."

"Yeah. Of course."

Caleb glanced around the medieval room, trying to steel his nerves. "So... I have a question for you."

"Ask away."

"Well, a _few_ questions." And he paced slowly before the lord. "You said that you would give me valid information to help the Rebellion?"

Cedric nodded.

"It might be a titbit, but it's legitimate, correct?"

He nodded again. Caleb sighed and bit his bottom lip before continuing:

"And you are absolutely certain that we have _no_ other way of... compensating for your help?"

Cedric sighed and removed his glasses. Caleb stepped back and watched him carefully.

"I confess to you, little rebel," said the lord, "I am a lonely man. A _very_ lonely man. I haven't seen another of my kind in nearly _fifteen_ years, and I am still very, very young for my people. Too young to give up on finding love, no matter how brief. A year, a month, a week, or even one night that makes my lukewarm blood burn hot. And I find that very few people are worthy of my love. Prince Phobos _was_ one—_was_. And he has proven that he doesn't have the ability to reciprocate. And I _crave_ affection, just like a little snake craves the warmth of the sun."

Caleb stared hard at him. This was definitely not the Cedric that he had known and fought against. "And_ you_ think that _I_ am worthy to give you affection?"

"More than I dare to confess. I've seen you from a distance, with your earthling delight, the dryad with sunshine hair. I would say that I don't envy you, but... but then I'd be lying," he said with a sigh. "And I don't want to lie to you any more. But I will lie for you."

"And _with_ me, apparently."

Cedric chuckled. "Yes, that is true."

Caleb crossed his arms and tapped his foot. Cedric replaced his glasses on his face and sat behind his desk.

"My services are never free," he continued. "Every time I help you, I put my body at stake. _Aaaaannnd_ since I do put my body at stake, I'd like to enjoy it while I still have it."

"Huh! You don't say." The Rebel Leader hummed and hawed and paced side-to-side. Cedric watched him for a while but then began reading a large, hard cover book on his desk.

"Take your time, rebel. But not too much."

Caleb thought, _I have too much to lose: most of all, the Rebellion and secondly... poor Cornelia. I hardly even like this guy, even with all the welts and bruises his Master gave him. And he has deceived me and others before._

The fleeting moments seemed to pass interminably for the indecesive leader. His back thumped loudly against the door as he huffed in frustration. The lord glanced from his book and asked,

"Not at all easy, is it? My nights are restless enough with Phobos breathing down my neck with every failure. _This_ plan has deprived me of my last sleeping hours for days."

"Really?"

Cedric averted his sorrowful eyes. Caleb gulped and continued: "And... will what we're about to... um... _definitely do_ alleviate any of _your_ stressful nerves?"

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> The author, Memory in Crimson, makes no claims over Disney's _W. I. T. C. H._, and they do not make any monetary gains from this fanfiction.


	3. Get on the Snake

**Author warning:** After reading scenes from the old version of _Kiss the Snake Good Night_, I've decided to move the rating up from T to M, as the rest of the story will be written for mature audiences. Chapter contents include sexual situations, strong language, and other adult material. Reader discretion is advised.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter III<strong>

With the hint that the rebel was willing to enter the deal, Cedric gave him a wide-eyed gaze.

"You... You'll honestly go through with this?"

Caleb gulped, and his nose twitched in annoyance. Fidgeting, he grumbled, "Yeah... Sure. What other choice _do_ I have?"

The lord smiled and shut his book. Setting his glasses aside, he strutted to Caleb and asked, "You _could_ always turn back, not that I recommend it."

"I figured you wouldn't," said the rebel, nose curling.

Just as the lord reached out to touch him, Caleb backed away, hands raised between them.

"Hold on, big guy," he snapped. "If we're gonna do this, I wanna set some ground rules. First and foremost, I still don't trust you, so you're not going to be the... the... _man_ during this whole affair."

Cedric chuckled. "Where I come from, we would call you the _is'sho'isse_, the one who receives power. I am the _ets'sho'issat_, the one who gives power."

"Well, whatever it's called, I'm not letting you call the shots."

"And do you actually _know_ how to—"

Caleb bristled and snapped, "Hey! Just because I've been fighting a war nearly all my life doesn't mean it's the only thing I have... experience in."

"Ha ha ha! Of course," said Cedric as he leaned closely to kiss him.

Caleb placed a finger on his lips. "I just want to get this over with, all right? We're not exactly a couple, let alone friends."

Cedric frowned and crossed his arms. He sighed, paced, and leaned against his desk, tapping his foot. He turned to grab his keys and walked to the door. Opening it wide, he said, "Then _leave_. You say one thing, but your heart tells me another; and it tells me that you aren't truly invested. Well, I won't force your hand, but I _don't_ want you here."

Caleb bit his bottom lip, gazing at the firm scowl as Cedric nodded towards the door. The rebel began to take his slow steps out, pausing in the doorway. He mumbled, trying to work up an apology (as loath as he was to admit it) for wasting Cedric's time. He ground his teeth and cursed, "Damn it, Cedric!"

In a swift move, he grabbed the lord by the shoulders of his sweater. Cedric grabbed him back, only to be shoved violently against the wall. He could barely breathe as the rebel forced a kiss upon his lips, holding it long—more out of frustration than affection.

When Caleb released him to gag, Cedric inhaled deeply, his golden face flush with surprise.

"Do _you_ still wanna do this now?" asked Caleb, his eyes burning fiercely.

Still panting, Cedric replied, "Well, now that the searing pain in my back has returned, I definitely don't have the power to assert a... _top_ position."

"Perfect," and with that, Caleb unzipped Cedric's trousers and began to pry them down.

The fact that he wore nothing underneath became glaringly obvious. The python really had anticipated Caleb to say 'yes.'

"You seem excited already," said Caleb. "You like being handled rough?"

"Mmm... On the contrary," he moaned. "Snakes always prefer a more gentle touch."

"I'm sure you do..."

Yanking off Cedric's shoes, the rebel finished removing his trousers. He stood nose-to-nose and grabbed him, eliciting another gasp.

"Gentle enough?" he asked.

Cedric hissed between his gritted teeth. "_Not... enough..._"

"Okay, then." Caleb loosened his grip, stroking him softly. The lord sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around Caleb's neck, burying his face against his chest.

"There's a divan right there," sighed the lord. "It would be much more comfortable."

Caleb harrumphed, but he released him and let him recline on his side on the divan. Cedric sighed, and his body loosened, sinking into the plush furnishing. Since he looked so relaxed (and less inclined to strike suddenly), Caleb sat beside him and asked, "So, now what do you want me to do?"

Then he added quickly, with a wrinkled nose, "I'm not willing to... you know... go _inside _you or anything."

"Not this time," chuckled Cedric as he untied his hair and lay carefully on his back. "Although I would enjoy a _little_ contact."

Caleb rolled his eyes and huffed. He stripped down to nothing but the wrappings around his arms, and he wedged himself between his legs, at which point the lord wrapped his legs around his waist. Cedric moaned and rolled his hips against him. Caleb sneered and grabbed his hips, digging his fingers into his flesh.

"Ah! I said to be gentle," complained Cedric, his pupils contracting to serpentine slits.

The young man smirked and leaned closer, holding Cedric's manhood. He whispered, "Oh, I'm sorry, you poor, _delicate _creature. Let me try again!" Then he positioned his manhood against his and moved his hips softly, rubbing against him.

The lord relaxed again and sighed. He closed his eyes and tried to hide his blush behind the back of his hand. He whimpered the rebel's name and covered his face with his arms, all his face except his flush lips. He was almost feminine in his humble position; and for a moment, Caleb would have sworn that Cedric looked like Cornelia.

Grinning, the rebel pulled apart his arms and leaned for a kiss. He ravished his lips, his cheeks, and his neck, his hands wandering with less hesitation. He moved his hips more vigourously and noticed that finally he felt stiffer. He credited that to the vision of Cornelia, steeling his resolve, and he thought only of her when he looked at Cedric's golden face and golden, disheveled hair.

Faster and faster he moved, until they bucked against one another. He grabbed the body beneath him more eagerly, and he heard the sweater tear as he ripped it, trying to get his mouth on Cedric's collar.

"_Ca... Caleb!_"

Cedric trembled beneath him, but the rebel just needed a little more time—_just a little more_—

The lord's cries strained in his throat as he tensed and climaxed. Caleb cursed and flipped him on his belly, rubbing himself against his crack until he felt his release. Kneading his calloused fingers through his soft, golden hair, he lifted his head slowly and asked:

"Satisfied now, lord?"

Cedric shuddered and groaned. "Yes... Very much so..."

"Good," and with that, he released him and stood on shaky knees, catching his breath.

"You have some sort of wash room, don't you?" asked Caleb. "I'd rather leave behind no evidence of our... uh, arrangement."

Cedric smiled softly. He sat tall and bound back his hair. Then he walked to his door, opened it, and bade Caleb to follow him. He led him to the restroom down the hall, flipped the light switch, and entered.

"Fairly large wash room for a small shop," noted Caleb. "You have fellow Aaronag come through?"

Cedric handed him a wet paper towel and said, "None that I've sniffed out. This land is strange enough to me. A day here might have most of my people coiling in on themselves and not unfurling for days."

Caleb chuckled and began to clean himself.

The lord removed his sweater, folded it, and set it aside. He prepared another towel and asked Caleb to tend to the mess that he had made.

"Unless you want me to walk about with your—"

"No! No!" The rebel exclaimed and began to wipe Cedric's back. "I said 'no evidence.' What, you want to save this and show it off to your boss?"

Cedric blanched and glanced over his shoulder at the rebel. He snarled, "Certainly not! He'll do more than add a few extra stripes to my back."

Caleb finished cleaning him and shoved the towel into the bin. He looked Cedric in the eye when he turned to him and held him by his nimble chin. He replied, "Hopefully nothing to your face. You're actually not too bad to look at in this form. At least, as long as a person forgets who you are."

Cedric's violet eyes softened and for a moment had the warmth of a human, not some cold-blooded killer. Cedric cleared his throat and escaped his grasp and gaze, taking up his sweater and returning to the office. Caleb cocked his head.

_Maybe the old viper is starting to change for the better_, he thought, and he followed him.

* * *

><p>Once the pair had finished dressing in silence, Caleb plopped into one of the chairs before Cedric's desk.<p>

"So, I've upheld my part of the bargain," noted Caleb. "Prove me wrong about you being a two-timer, and uphold your part."

Cedric smiled softly and folded his hands under his chin. He replied, "I suppose I _should_ do the honest thing and fulfill my end. Very well."

Then he closed his eyes contemplatively for a moment before he spoke:

"You are familiar with the Hestian Plains?"

The rebel leader nodded.

"His Majesty, as you have noticed, has become more anxious and more _armed_. He is preparing to have all the plains burned and excavated for some rather _grim_ items."

"What kind of items?"

"They are known in ancient tomes as the Golden Artifacts of the Thousand-Year Reign. They were created by a shadow priest, who sacrificed an entire village into cauldrons of bubbling gold to create them."

"That's horrible!" exclaimed Caleb.

"Yes. The Artifacts were used to summon a dark god, who if he had granted the priest's wish, would establish a kingdom of darkness for one thousand years. Only when a young king, with powers exceeding the Light of Meridian, stepped forth and challenged the evil was the priest defeated, the god sealed, and the Artifacts buried in the Hestian Plains, far from their land of origin.

"Prince Phobos has discovered that the Artifacts exist and where they lie, and he intends to use them to summon the dark god and secure his rule. I have already delayed him as long as I can, and for that, I received a new set of scars. He shall march about a day and a night from now."

Caleb groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it all! Well, what are we going to do?"

"You must hide in the Karkaruth Pass," said Cedric, "and ambush the Prince's forces."

Caleb scoffed. "As if he'll march his men through a canyon where any number of thieves, brigands, and cut-throats could hide? The only other way to the Hestian Plains is Gala-Gala Road, and it's much safer."

Cedric shook his head and said, "He already expects that of you. He already knows that you know that the Pass is perilous, with all its crevices and caverns. He's anticipating that you assume that he shall take the safer route, and so, he's taking a chance on Karkaruth."

"Never mind," said the rebel as he lifted his hands, "I'll take your word for it—for once. I can't afford to split my men and watch both roads, so I'll just do as you say."

"Good lad," said Cedric. Then he rose and escorted Caleb to the store's entrance.

"I must commend you, rebel," said the lord, "you truly are willing to do anything to help your comrades. But I suppose that with so many lives in peril, it's worth doing anything."

Caleb stopped and glanced at him. He sighed quietly and replied, "So many of my allies—so many of my _friends_—have lost their lives already, and sometimes it feels like their deaths were in vain. So yeah, at this point, I really will do what it takes to save those still alive and restore the honour of the dead."

Cedric smiled and stroked Caleb's cheek. "Don't take this in offence, but... you remind me of myself when I began serving the royal family, the Prince especially. I was willing to do _anything_ for him... And I did," he said, his eyes dulling with sadness. "I did many, _many_ things for him, more than you know."

Then he unlocked the doors and bade Caleb farewell.

With a sigh and his hands tucked into his pockets, the rebel leader strolled back to the Silver Dragon. His curiosity had been piqued when Cedric alleged that he had done '_many_ things' for the Prince.

_Other than burn our crops and enslave our people?_ he thought, but an iota of guilt flickered passed that thought. What if, before dark days had fallen upon the land, the old viper really had sacrificed often for the royals? What if he had made some painful choices? Nothing in his past could justify his actions in the present, but maybe Caleb could get clues as to where the noble had gone astray.

_In the mean time, I need to gather the girls and get my men ready_, he thought as he picked up the pace. And because his source of information was not well-trusted, he needed to concoct a believable story to make the information more credible.

* * *

><p><strong>Annotations:<strong>

_The Golden Artifacts of the Thousand-Year Reign._ This story is taken directly from the manga _Yu-Gi-Oh!_, where one of the main antagonists massacred a village, boiled the inhabitants in gold, and created seven magical items that could be used to summon a demonic god.


	4. Need a Little Sympathy

**Chapter IV**

Finally, to make Cedric's information more palatable, Caleb had managed to concoct a good enough story for the girls and the rebels:

"She goes by the title of 'the Seer.' No one remembers her real name or from where she came. I heard talk of her among one of the villages near Meridian, but most of the people _don't_ like to speak of her. She sees the present with the best clarity, and she knows many things about many people, enough to make anyone quiver and quake. Because her visions are so accurate and often devastate those seeking her help, most people don't seek her out.

"But I figured she might have information that might help the Rebellion, so I looked for her where she was spotted last: a little cottage in the old hunting grounds of King Laïos. She can't ask for payment because of the deal she made with the gods, but she can accept charity for her services. So I gave her as many provisions as I could, and this is what she told me..."

Then Caleb relayed the tale that Cedric had told him. As usual, the girls were a bit suspicious of his source, thinking the worst, but in the end, they cooperated. The rebels immediately trusted Caleb's judgment, and on the day that Phobos' army marched through the Karkaruth Pass, they were taken by utter surprise.

The scar-faced captain, Mustaveri, was in charge. Lord Cedric was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, Mustaveri was renowned for his ruthlessness, and before he cursed the rebels in defeat, he had managed to cleave through four good men.

Even though they had lost comrades, the rebels had won the battle and driven Phobos' dogs back to the cold, bleak kennels awaiting them.

Aldarn was especially celebratory after the battle. He leaped upon Caleb and embraced him vigourously, cheering, "Praise be to the just gods on high! Praise be to the Seer! May she be blessed a thousand times over!"

"Bless her a thousand times a thousand if I can find her again," said Caleb, "and get her to give me a vision as good as this one. With her help, we might make better gains than before."

"Of course, my friend, of course," said Aldarn, and he patted him on the back.

Two days following the rebels' success, Caleb returned to earth. Despite his less-than-pleasant encounter with Cedric, he entertained the idea of visiting him, if only to thank him for his help.

Of course, there was as good a chance that Phobos had given him hell for this newest failure, and he might not be in the mood to accept the slightest bit of gratitude for betraying his master. Therefore, he decided to wait, taking up his duties at the Silver Dragon with slightly more enthusiasm than usual.

* * *

><p>"So what exactly does this Seer look like again?" asked Hay Lin.<p>

"Probably one of those ancient-looking Delphi biddies," said Irma. "She probably gets high off frankincense and myrrh and tells more puzzles than the Riddler."

Caleb snorted.

"Hey! Show some respect," he said. "Yes, sometimes she talks in riddles, but she's accurate, and she's _helpful_. That's what counts. And if it weren't for her information, we'd be battling a demonic god, summoned from the blood of a sacrificed village."

"_Eewww!_" the girls exclaimed.

"That's just so wrong," said Cornelia.

"Exactly," said Caleb.

Then he grinned, crossed his arms, and said, "Anyway, if you really _need_ to know, she bears a _great_ resemblance to our dear Cornelia."

"What?" The girls gaped.

"And though she's probably much, much older than you," he continued, "even with the blindfold over her eyes—I dunno, I'd say you have some pretty stiff competition, Cornelia."

The girls looked at one another, and Irma grinned at Cornelia. The young blonde scowled at him and stood indignantly, marching up the stairs. Hay Lin and Taranee hurried after her to try to calm her.

"Way to go, Romeo," said Irma, "we'll be hearing about this for months," and with that, she hurried up the stairs as well.

Caleb harrumphed. Will snickered and sat besides him.

"Well, it's true," he grumbled. "She does look like Cornelia, so yes, she does look pretty, but it's her _skills_ that matter. Not to mention..." He stood, walked to the stairs, and yelled, "_She's way too old for me!_"

Will shook her head. She said, "You know how jealous Corny can get. But I'm pretty sure that'll fade about as quickly as last season's fashion. Don't worry. It's like you said: your relationship with the Seer is just business. It's for the Rebellion."

Caleb glanced at her and smiled back. "Thanks for understanding."

"Someone other than Taranee's gotta be rational in the group," she said. She patted him on the shoulder and said, "I'll see you later. I'm gonna see if I can distract Madame Green Eyes with some window-shopping." With that, she vanished up the stairs.

Caleb sighed and glanced at the light beaming through the window.

_I'd better go while I've got a peaceful moment,_ he thought. He grabbed his jacket, and he marched quietly up the stairs. He glanced around to ensure that none of the girls had lingered, and once he was assured the coast was clear, he sneaked through the back door and sped down the alley.

* * *

><p>When Caleb stepped into Ye Olde Bookshop, he spotted Elyon sorting books as she prepared a display. He frowned. He had hoped that Elyon would have disappeared after his tale, and he curious to know why she had remained.<p>

"Hey, you!" he greeted her.

Elyon jumped, but when she turned and saw Caleb, she smiled.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I have that same question for you," he said.

Elyon looked down and drummed her fingers on the books.

"_We-e-elllll..._ I thought about what you'd told me," she said. "Of course, I didn't tell my parents because that would have freaked them out. But then when I came to work the other day, and I saw that he hadn't opened the shop, I thought, 'Maybe this is sign. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me Caleb is right.'"

The rebel smiled albeit briefly. "So what brought you back?"

"Cedric called me this morning," said Elyon. "He said he got in this horrible accident that messed up his back. And I thought, 'Oh my gosh! I hope Caleb didn't go after him,' because I thought, y'know, you might have threatened him or something. But when he came in today, he looked _terrible!_"

Her eyes had widened and become wet with sadness.

"He looks so _pale_, and he can barely lift anything. I have no idea what happened to him, but I just wanna hug him and tell him it's gonna be all right."

Caleb frowned. He would have put down a large bet that his master was displeased with his pet and had made sure his back was opened up pretty wide this time. Shaking the thought out of his head, he asked, "Is he still around?"

"Yeah," said Elyon with a slow nod. Then she snatched up both of Caleb's hands and asked, "You're not going to do anything to him, are you? I mean, even if he..." She paused and looked around before lowering her voice. "... even if he did all those _things_ to your friend, this just isn't the time."

Caleb smiled. Only the Light of Meridian could be so nonjudgmental. She definitely needed to discern people much better, but a good monarch was slow judge, _unlike_ Phobos.

"Don't worry," he said, "we had a talk a while back, and... I just wanted to check up on him, that's all. I'm not gonna cause any trouble—cross my heart."

Elyon sighed and smiled. "Thank you, Caleb."

Having soothed her nerves, Caleb walked towards the back of the store, eying each aisle that he passed. He spotted Cedric dressed in black, standing on a stepping stool and hanging decorations in the window.

"Um... Hey!" Caleb greeted. "How you doin'?"

Cedric turned and smirked meekly. He replied softly, "Not in the best of shape, rebel, but I'm better than I _could_ be. And you? How did the ambush go?"

"I'm pretty sure your boss let you know that," he said, and Cedric nodded imperceptibly.

"I lost a few good men," continued Caleb, "but otherwise, it was success."

Cedric hummed and glanced through his store. He asked, "Shall we continue this elsewhere?"

"Sure."

"All right. Elyon!"

The girl hopped quickly at the sound of his voice. "Yes, Cedric?"

"Can you watch the shop while Caleb and I talk? I'll have my office door cracked, just in case you need me, dear."

"No problem!" she exclaimed with a smile and proud blush on her face. And with her enthusiasm doubled, she worked with more vigour on her duties.

Cedric led Caleb to the office and let the rebel enter before him. As he promised, he kept the door cracked, and Caleb sat comfortably before his desk.

"I didn't think I'd ever do this," said the rebel, "but I've gotta thank you. You're finally making the right decisions for the good of Meridian."

Cedric sighed and set aside his glasses. He traced invisible circles on the desk as he spoke.

"I suppose I am," he said. "I must say, though, your visit surprised me."

"Surprised? Are you kidding?" chuckled Caleb. "If you keep this up, the Rebellion will make great gains."

"Mmm... If I survive long enough."

Caleb frowned. He leaned forward and cleared his throat.

"So... Why all black today?"

The lord rose and trembled as he did. He removed his coat delicately and set it aside before unbuttoning his black hem shirt and turning around. Caleb groaned as he looked at him. A new set of still-healing wounds criss-crossed from his neck and his arms to his belt and to what must have been below that.

"My legs are in bad shape," he said. "And I prefer standing as opposed to sitting."

A fire was sparked in Caleb's eyes, and he balled his hands into fists.

"Why? Why do you stay with him?" he asked. "I mean, without you in the palace, we'll know nothing, but... but why are you even there in the first place? If he does _this_? To _you_, his most loyal subject?"

Cedric sighed as he put his shirt back on.

"Tenderhearted rebel," he said, "it isn't my place to tell you my story. If I did, I would have to reveal things about the Prince and his family that no one would want to hear—or _believe_. But believe this much: I've stayed with Prince Phobos because... because I am all that he has left. He trusts me the most out of all his court and all those who have sworn their allegiance and fealty to him. Even now, it's hard for me to do all _this_, but I hope that some good shall come of it."

Caleb sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. He searched his words carefully before replying.

"What do you hope for," he began, "once the Light of Meridian is restored?"

Cedric looked him straight in the eyes and leaned closely. He said, "To show him mercy. I know! I know! That is much to ask of you rebels, but even after all that he has done—that _we_ have done—I must ask for that. I swore upon my mother's name that I would defend him, in the darkest hour or in his darkest mood."

Then he chuckled sadly and shrugged. "And he's been in a dark mood for a very long time."

As the lord spoke, Caleb kept his eyes trained for any microscopic signs of deception. He maintained a steady stare with Cedric, but his eyes would wander quickly to the slight twitch of a finger, the crease of his brows, and even how each drop of perspiration traced his face. All throughout, Cedric was pale and weary and _sad_, trapped in his depression. He could detect no lie.

"I'll do my best," said Caleb, and he rose walked to the door.

Cedric followed him to the front of the store and stepped outside with him. He gave him a farewell kiss on the cheek and said, "Come back in three days, if you can. I should be in better and have news for you. Until then, take care."

"Take care, Cedric," said Caleb, rubbing one of his shoulders. Then he pulled up his collar and returned to the Silver Dragon, ruminating on the lord's request.


	5. You Got Me Hypnotized

**Chapter V**

With each hour that passed since their latest encounter, Caleb dreaded that Cedric might have experienced second thoughts about their arrangement. He feared that Phobos might have discovered his betrayal and made him pay with his life.

On the afternoon of the third day, Caleb hastened to Ye Olde Bookshop. In his rush, he had nearly been hit by several cars and earned the vulgar shouts of drivers who were also in a hurry. Close mishaps aside, he arrived unscathed at the store with its wide-open doors.

Caleb spotted the book seller dusting fixtures. He smiled and sighed in silent relief. Cedric wore a clean, light turquoise dress shirt—not a speck of blood to be seen. The rebel leader strode up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Caleb!" gasped Cedric. "You came."

"Yeah, uh... I did," he said, hands in his pockets. "You look much better than last I saw you."

"I managed to cook up an old family recipe," said Cedric, "a painkiller that also does a fine job of suturing nasty wounds."

Then he turned towards Caleb and smiled. "Since you are here, and since it is a tad slow, let's meet in my office."

"Sounds good to me," he said.

Cedric nodded and pulled Elyon aside from boxing books that needed to be returned to the warehouse. He let her know about the meeting, and she assured him, with her bright smile and bright eyes, that she would not let him down. After he patted her on the shoulder, he escorted Caleb into the office, keeping the door cracked in case his young employee should encounter a troublesome customer.

Sitting behind his desk with a deep sigh, Cedric leaned against his leather chair, his hands threaded together atop his head.

"I simply don't know how earthlings live like this," he said. "This concept of producing more than you need and peddling it in hopes of becoming as rich as a baron–uh! I know that I'm supposed to be doing this to blend in, but this culture takes its toll."

"Earthlings are strange like that," said Caleb. "A lot of them don't want to exist just in their means. They want more and more _and more_."

Cedric smirked. "Just like Prince Phobos."

The rebel chuckled. "Phobos is a tyrant, all right, but some of these earthlings customers act like miniature tyrants. The world revolves around them, and the slightest deviation on something so _trivial_ will rouse their ire. You should them at the Silver Dragon."

"So is _that_ where you've been hiding?"

Caleb tensed immediately, and the blood ran from his face to his feet. Knowing where the Prince's sibilant sycophant was one matter, but Cedric finally knowing his earthling headquarters? How could he be so stupid! Compromising himself like that–the conversation was just so casual, and he felt so at peace. However, even though Cedric seemed to make an effort to help the Rebellion, Caleb should have maintained his guard around the perfidious serpent.

Chuckling, the lord reclined in his chair and said, "Relax, rebel leader, we're on the same side, now. Your secret is safe with me."

"Y-Yeah…. Sure," said Caleb, although his muscles could barely obey that softly-spoken command.

Then Caleb began, "Speaking of secrets, I do need to kind of keep your identity a secret from the rebels, right? You know, given your history and how _incredibly_ dangerous this all is."

Cedric hummed and nodded.

"So-o-o-o… would you be against me giving you a code name? A secret identity?"

The lord raised both his eyebrows. He leaned upon the desk and placed his chin in his palm. "Such as…"

"The Seer," he said, "similar to the Seer of Gaebo'hau'Úto?"

Cedric's eyes widened, and he recoiled with a curled nose and curled lips.

"The vagrant woman who plucked out her own eyes?" He shuddered.

"I didn't say it was her!" snapped Caleb. "I just told everyone that my source goes by the title of the Seer. I didn't give a name or where she hails from, and my description of her could match just about anyone."

Cedric babbled wordlessly and threw his hands in the air. "_Such as?_"

Caleb rolled his eyes and huffed. Honestly, the man was overreacting. What was Caleb supposed to do? Tell the rebels and the Guardians the truth? That Phobos' pet beast with the silver forked-tongue was suddenly on their side?

Smirking and cocking his head haughtily side-to-side as he spoke, Caleb leaned closely and said, "That she is a _comely_ woman, whose age cannot be discerned and who despite the tattered habit she wears is an awesome sight to behold. Every hair on her head is spun from gold, and her skin glows like the rays of the sun. Only her profound wisdom exceeds her beauty in wonderment."

As the rebel regaled him, Cedric's suspicious gaze loosened, his defenses slackening. A gentle smirk curled comfortably on his face, and he removed his glasses, nibbling the tip of a temple in intrigue.

"My, my! And here I thought I was the best at weaving pretty lies," he said. "But, my dear Caleb, what if the rebels or the Guardians find out this radiant creature does not exist?"

Caleb folded his arms and asked, "Why would I need proof? I'm truthful!"

"Except when you're not," said Cedric with a chuckle, to which Caleb harrumphed.

As the lord stood and paced slowly around his desk, Caleb wondered apprehensively which wheels were turning in that murky machine that he called a mind. Cedric hummed and stroked his chin and nibbled on a temple again. Then as he arrived at one of the book cases, he clicked his heels and spun quickly towards Caleb.

"I have it! We shall do a little something," he began, "just a _little_ something to ensure that they never question your story."

_Oh, great,_ huffed the rebel in his head. _What cockamamie scheme has he cooked up _this_ time?_

Sitting upon his desk before Caleb, the shape-shifter proposed: "Suppose the local book seller–_I_, of course–asked you to escort his poor, blind sister while he addresses some business matters. You meet her around–oh, let's say six tonight, here at the store. But wait!" he gasped as he held up his hands. "Could that truly be? Yes! It is! It is she, your golden maid, the Seer! She is the book seller's sister, and she has found you here on earth."

Caleb groaned and buried his hands in his face. He honestly did not believe that they needed to go any further with his original story. _He_ did not need to go any further!

"And where, pray tell," he asked with a heart full of foreboding, "am I escorting… 'your sister'?"

"How does Barbucci and Canepa's sound?"

Caleb was nearly smote by apoplexy.

"The _fine dining_ restaurant?" His face became three shades paler. He gesticulated wildly as he continued. "I don't have that kind of money! Do you even know how much I earn? And all of that goes towards buying supplies for the Rebellion! Ugh! Cedric, Cedric, _Cedric!_"

"Calm down, rebel leader," bade the lord, "I have plenty of money stored away for just such an emergency. After all, gold is as valuable here as it is in Meridian, and Prince Phobos doesn't mind sparing a few coins from the treasury, as long as he thinks it's for the mission here on earth."

Caleb groaned again, shut his eyes, and shook his head. "How in the world are you going to pass for a lady?"

Cedric snorted at the unintended insult. "I apparently need to remind you that _I am a shape-shifter_. We Aaronagim can change into just about whoever and whatever we please."

"Ohhh! Beg pardon, my _lady_," he said with a sweeping bow. Then he stood and moved his chair back into place. "Six it is, then. And don't forget to make it convincing."

"Humph! Of course, _I_ won't," sneered Cedric, but his indignation faded as quickly as it appeared, and he squeezed one of Caleb's shoulders in the assurance that he took none of his words personally.

The men left the office and for Elyon's sake just in time. A group of tourists has entered, and poor Elyon gazed at Cedric with wide, cervine eyes, silently begging her boss for help. Keeping his farewell brief, he said to Caleb, "Remember: six tonight. My sister, _Cecelia_, will be very pleased to meet you."

"Yeah," said Caleb, "I'll be here."

Then he turned and began his trek back to the Silver Dragon. Not much of the proposed evening had Caleb cringing yet. At least with Cedric transformed into a curvaceous maiden, the younger man could surmount his shame and feel a little more confident.

That is, until he realized that Cornelia might take issue with him accompanying another girl about town, visually impaired or not.

"Oh, great…. Ugh!" To make the matter worse, earthlings considered restaurants such as Barbucci and Canepa's as locations that folks in _close_ relationships visited. The lighting was warm and intimate; the way in which the tables were arranged allowed for private conversations to carry on without the fear of being overheard; and the music (which he found sappy) was supposed to establish what earthlings considered a romantic mood.

"This is going to be a total cluster-cuss," he moaned.

"What's a total cluster-cuss?"

Think of devil! Cornelia popped right beside him, dressed in new a coral halter top with a coral, knee-high, godet skirt and several bags in her hands.

"Where'd you go after school?" he asked.

"Duh! Genevieve's is having a _huge_ sale," she said as she lifted the bags. "And oh my gosh, it was a total _zoo_. Some stupid girl stepped on my toes, and some trashy-looking chick nearly punched me in the face for this _cu-u-ute_ dress. I mean, come on! No dress made by the best designer in the world could have made her look better. And her attitude? I swear, there are, like, farm girls that have better comportment."

"Woo! Fancy talk there," said Caleb. "Speaking of manners, shall I help you, my lady?"

Before he realized that the bags were in his hands, there they appeared. Cornelia's fast-spoken gratitude was even less discernible, but to his fortune, he did not need to carry her trophies for long, like a Vodoroikian mule in one of Phobos' mines. The young shopper waved for a taxicab, and he drove the pair to Cornelia's condominium.

"So-o-o-o what's all this about a cluster-cuss?" she asked.

"Well…. You know the guy who owns Ye Olde Bookshop?"

"Oh my gosh! Rick Hoffman?" Cornelia squealed and said, "He is, like, the _cutest_ thing ever, right? I mean, you're a guy and all and wouldn't understand, okay, but it you weren't, he would be the most _bodacious_ bomb! And you would have to be, like, crazy to not think so. And who thought that wearing glasses could be _so-o-o-o-o hot!_"

Caleb rolled his eyes as the young woman gushed. If only she knew the truth! That her little fantasy was the same being as the titanic snake-beast! She would be _so-o-o-o-o disappointed!_

"Anyway," he continued as the taxicab sped along, "he kind of asked a favor of me. He wants me to take his blind sister on a tour of Heatherfield tonight."

"Rick has a sister?" Cornelia tilted her head. "So how come he asked you?"

"It's a _long_ story," said Caleb. "Let's just say that I owe him a favor."

Cornelia hummed in suspicion. For a girl who sashayed as if she owned the city, the slightest glance from another girl to Caleb ignited her volatile jealousy. Even when he opened doors at the mall to help young women, hands full of heavy bags, Cornelia would cast her evil gaze at them and question Caleb's courtesy.

Before she could begin her interrogation, the driver arrived at the tower. Cornelia paid him, thanked him, and slipped out without offering Caleb a hand.

_Yeesh! She really must be offended if she doesn't even want to carry in her new wardrobe_, he thought.

As they entered the lobby and waited for the elevator, Cornelia placed her hands akimbo and said, "Well, I don't see why he can't do it himself. I mean, I know he's busy and all—"

"Cornelia, he runs a small business. It's his _livelihood_, and unfortunately for him, something came up. He can't take her out tonight. But he already made dinner reservations, and he doesn't want to cancel. So he asked me to be his substitute and guard his sister with my life."

Just as the bell tolled, and the elevator doors slid open, the young woman huffed and relented.

"All ri-i-ight," she drawled with narrow eyes, "but I better not hear one word come back to me that you did anything more than give her a tour of a town." Then she smirked and mocked, "At least there won't be any chance of her falling in love with you at first sight."

Caleb groaned and scolded her. "Do you have to be so insensitive?"

"What? It's true."

"Argh!"

The elevator ride was quick enough. Cornelia peered into her home, and once she was assured her parents were gone, she invited Caleb inside. After he slung her bags upon her bed, he sat on the leather chair in front of her computer, watching her reorganize her closet and hearing her recapitulate all the gossip and earthling hullabaloo from school.

Not long into her tirade against some girls known as the Grumper Sisters, Mrs. Hale arrived home with Lillian from errands. She would not depart from the doorway until all her questions were satisfied, stern and staring Cornelia straight in the eyes.

_Please! The Rebellion keeps me occupied enough_, thought Caleb as he rolled his eyes. _I'm not going to do anything _life-altering_ until after I know my home is safe enough to raise a kid._

Once she was satisfied that he had done nothing untoward with her daughter, Mrs. Hale returned to her groceries. Caleb was free to return to the Silver Dragon with just enough time to search for something decent to wear to the dinner. Unfortunately, all he had was a brown blazer that was barely fit for a place like Barbucci and Canepa's.

"Why can't I just go to one of those hamburger joints instead?" he moaned. "Or one of those little coffee shops? Why do I have to take her to some uptight tavern?"

"Passling girls much easier," said Blunk. "Take to swamp. Catch fresh Whomper fish. Give her bouquet of Maggotweed and Jandiroot—"

"Aren't _you_ romantic?" said Caleb flatly. "And besides, it's not a date. It's a favor."

"What's not a date?"

Caleb turned towards the stairs as Yan Lin entered, fetching supplies. He sighed and crossed his arms.

"I'm helping out that book seller all the girls gush about," he said. "His sister is in town, and he's asked _me_ to take her on a night time stroll."

"How'd you get roped into that?" asked Yan Lin as she dug through the boxes.

"She's blind, and she's not very familiar with Heatherfield. Ce—Mr. Hoffman needs to take care of some problems with his business, but he already made reservations to go dine at Barbucci and Canepa's tonight."

Yan Lin stood tall and whistled. "That _is_ one fancy joint! Well, if you want, I can give you a small loan so you can rush to the nearest tux store. But you will have to work a few extra hours—"

"Thanks, but I'm sure Hoffman can lend me one of his jackets," and Caleb did not doubt that either. Cedric could conjure some coat appropriate for the occasion; and if he could not do it magically, he had the money to do so.

* * *

><p>Caleb made haste from the Silver Dragon to Ye Olde Bookshop. He arrived with just ten minutes to spare and gazed inside the store. Cedric had already closed for the day, but Caleb spotted the dim glow of a light in the back. Knocking on the glass doors, he watched as tall, blonde woman walked carefully to the doors, feeling the shelves and displays with her hands. Her long, slender fingers fumbled with the keys, and she stroked for lock before leaning closely and opening the doors.<p>

Cornelia would have envied the moment she would have seen her. Her face was slender and soft, and her eyes were narrow with tranquility. Her teal, chiffon blouse with the Queen Anne neckline hugged her ample bosom, and her black denim trousers accentuated the inviting curves of her hips.

"Ce... Cedric?" Caleb squeaked like a lad changing into a man. "Is that..."

The young woman grinned and laughed liltingly.

"You like?" she asked. "I wanted your jaw to drop when you saw me, as though I were your Seer—"

"Oh yeah... Something dropped, all right." Then he slapped his hand over his mouth.

The shape-shifter laughed and offered him entry. He stumbled over his feet but caught himself, following the changed creature as she led him to the check-out counter.

Holding up a Prussian blue, three-button jacket, she said, "Here is your attire. Those trousers shouldn't be a problem, and here's a little cologne to cover that faint odor."

"What? You don't think perfume of Passling will please the diners?"

"Not unless most of them are Andandsee-ites," said Cedric as she pulled out a pair of blue-tinted glasses.

The jacket was a tad loose and made his shoulders look wider than his body, but as long as he did not look too foolish, the restaurant should have had no trouble letting him in. On the other hand, they would be lunatics to refuse Cedric service with that body and that fine attire.

Throwing a royal yellow shawl over her shoulders and grabbing her keys, her purse, and a red and white cane, Cedric hooked arms with the rebel and pressed her body closely. Caleb felt his face swell with blood.

"Shall we, then?" asked the shape-shifter.

"Um... Yeah, s-sure," said Caleb.

As soon as Cedric locked up shop, the pair strolled through the city to Barbucci and Canepa's.

"It's only four blocks up and two blocks across," said Cedric. "There's a lovely little park nearby that we can stroll through afterwards, and it is there I shall tell you all that I know about the Prince's latest plot. Is that all right?"

"Y-yeah," he said, "no problem at all."

Cedric hugged his arm again, and the young man nearly tripped on his feet again. Was he truly so smitten by this false image? Then he wondered if Cornelia would grow into such a jaw-dropping sight. She seemed so slender and, despite how much she worried about it, did not put on new weight with ease. She also moved like earthling models—haughty and snotty, not at all with the aristocratic grace that Cedric had cultivated for years. Too bad if the Earth Guardian never developed to look like this. He felt a twinge of excitement while he walked with the creature of different breeding and airs.

_Maybe this isn't such a bad idea after all._

* * *

><p><strong>Annotations:<strong>

_Barbucci and Canepa's_. A reference to the original artists who illustrated the _W.I.T.C.H._ comics, Alessandro Barbucci and Barbara Canepa.

_Andandsee-ites_. Lady Miranda's folk. The term is derived from _Anansi_, an Ashanti trickster god who could shapeshift from spider to human.


	6. Love Is Like a Sin

"Love is like a sin, my love,

"For the ones that feel it the most"

- Massive Attack, "Paradise Circus," _Heligoland_

**Chapter VI**

Couples had begun to queue up in front of Barbucci and Canepa's. A few had made reservations, and many more stood in the futile hope that maybe the restaurant could squeeze them into some humble corner, how-ever dismal.

Among those with the foresight to make reservations weeks in advance were a golden-haired woman with curves in all the right places and her young, handsome escort. Many a jaw dropped as they passed to reach the host's podium, and some of the men stirred the ire of their dates for gawking slack-jawed at the woman. A few squealed and grunted as their girlfriends stomped on their feet.

The restaurant reminded Caleb of a noble's glittering dining hall, and he was in for a more stunning view. Cedric—or rather, _Cecelia_, as the shape-shifter asked to be called throughout the evening—had reserved a table on the upper level by the vast window overlooking the park. The park shimmered with street lamps as the sun set, and the trees bowed before the gentle breeze. Heatherfield always assumed a unique beauty when night fell, taking on a magic that, when he had first arrived, he had assumed did not exist. The view reminded him of happier days on Meridian, and he wondered how soon a sight as lovely as the one before him would return.

"A drink for the lovely lady?" asked the well-trained waiter. "And her gentleman?"

"We'd each like an Italian soda," said Cecelia, "with cranberry flavouring and no whipped cream, please."

"Of course," said the waiter, and he scurried off to fulfill their order.

Caleb had to admit, Cedr—er, _Cecelia's_ knowledge of earthling drink and food astonished him. Actually, the shape-shifter must have researched the area for weeks, long before the book store had been established as Phobos's earthling base.

After she helped him decipher the menu, select their meals, and place their order, he finally asked, "How did you find this place? And how is it that you know more than _I_ do, since it seems that... you know... Phobos might not want you wandering off?"

Cecelia smiled and tittered.

"Who says that wandering is always a bad thing?" she asked in return. Then she leaned closely and whispered, "If you want to convince your hosts that you are one of them, then you must wander among them and observe.

"As suspicious as my people are of others, we actually integrate relatively well with surrounding populations. It's partly why I'm so valuable to His Highness. We try to learn as many things about the world around us as quickly as possible, so that no one is the wiser. It's this trait that's allowed us to survive so long, even with all the changes that occur on Metamoor and anywhere else we go."

Caleb smirked. "So that's why you're always one step ahead."

Cecelia smirked and propped her chin delicately on her hand.

"That," she said, "and when I do reconnaissance, I'm fond of researching local cuisine. My people avidly love trying new foods, especially _meat_."

The thought flickered through Caleb's head that Aaronagim probably sampled what and _who_ they were curious to devour. Suddenly chilled by the horrifying thought that the noble might have eaten a comrade or two, he cleared his throat and, hoping to clear the thought, asked, "Is, uh, that why you ordered that goat... whatever it was?"

"Oh! I know what goats are," she said with a flip of her hand. "Escanor and his folk brought them and sheep when they came, colonizing Metamoor. But the taste reminds me of Dodidrian deer, which are _plentiful_ in my homeland, and oh! _They taste so good!_" she ended with a sigh.

Caleb cocked an eyebrow, his smirk planted firmly on his face. When the shape-shifter's face contorted into that expression of pain-and-pleasure, he derived secret amusement. On the one hand, such openness assured Caleb that trust had been sewn and germinated between them; and on the other hand, he saw a side of the most powerful soldier in Phobos's army that was not often seen or imagined—a tender side, one with dreams and _vulnerabilities_.

Soon the soup and salad arrived. Caleb had selected a creamy broth, a favourite of the chef on duty that evening, and Cecelia had chosen a leafy dish, which Caleb knew was a dish that Cornelia preferred often. However, he did not know her to eat with the kind of daintiness that the noble managed. He assumed that many years in the castle, among royalty, nobility, and gentry, had cultivated that.

In almost no time, their dinner arrived. While Caleb had no qualm smacking his lips and slurping—a faux pas in this world but a customary compliment in Meridian among peasants, when a meal proved satisfying—Cecelia restrained her inner beast, though Caleb could tell, she seemed slightly pained to do so.

"You should just unhinge your jaw and gobble it," he said with chortle.

Cecelia flushed and leaned forward to whisper,"I don't want people staring at me—"

Caleb scoffed and said, "They've been staring since we arrived."

"Humph!" The noble sat tall and pouted. "Besides, I don't want to... _alarm_ anyone. Snakes terrify most humans. An Aaronag would cause a city-wide panic."

"_Noooo!_ Really? I would have never thought!" Caleb feigned surprise. "I was hoping you'd be judged on your _exquisite_ personality alone, not petty appearances."

Cecelia smirked wryly and whispered, "Well, I believe after all the salacious glances I've attracted, we can safely conclude that humans are indeed ruled by their eyes and not reason."

He agreed with that, although who could blame them? Even with his knowledge of Cecelia's true identity, Caleb had to confess that he, too, had been enchanted by the shape-shifter's tantalising good looks. She was, as earthlings said, 'sexy,' but she was not sleazy like some of the earthling models were. She knew that she was a feast for the eyes, and she clearly felt comfortable in that body—_perhaps even a little aroused?_ he wondered—but she did not boast about herself as some women, earthling and Metarmoorish, who were beautiful and vain, were wont to do.

Aaronagim, if he were recalling the tales correctly, carried themselves in a perpetual state of confidence. They were comfortable in whatever skin they shifted into, and even in their petrifying true state, they were almost hypnotising with their brilliant colours and sleek shapes.

When the pair finished their dinner, they left their plates nearly spotless. They declined dessert and coffee—"Honestly, what a disgusting beverage!" sneered Cecelia to Caleb when the waiter departed to fetch their cheque—and she paid for the meal, adding a generous tip. Then they strolled onto the glistening boulevard, receiving jealous glances from the long queue again, before they crossed the street to the park.

"Thanks for dinner," said Caleb.

"Thank _you_ for your company," said Cecelia as they found a bench upon which to rest. "I've wanted to visit that restaurant for some time. I didn't want to eat alone, but of course, I can't ask one of the random customers that come in and out of my shop. They would take it the wrong way, especially if they were already infatuated with me."

"And you do have quite a following," said Caleb.

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "Speaking of, can you ask the earth guardian to _stop_ pulling out books and rearranging my shop? I know why she does it—sticking her nose in a book to look serious—but I'm not oblivious. And while this isn't my livelihood, I still like to keep a tidy and organised house."

"Earthling girls," sighed Caleb, and he shook his head. "Just show her what you _really_ look like, and she'll _never_ bother you again."

The shape-shifter harrumphed and nudged him playfully. "Stop trying to get me to expose myself, you devilish rebel."

"Speaking of exposition, what about this latest bit of information you've scrounged?"

Cecelia's playful smile and demeanor faded. She grabbed the top of her cane and twisted it, removing it and the rolled parchment that hid inside. She handed the document to Caleb and re-assembled her cane.

As the rebel unfurled the parchment, he discovered that it was a map. Then his informant asked, "Are you familiar with a set of hills known as the Sei'espian?"

"A little," he said. "One of the father's of a Galhot friend used to tell us that Elyon's grandmother, Queen Binah, had placed a mixed blessing on the hills. Anyone who had not received permission from the Light of Meridian to go there would die horribly."

"That tale contains grains of truth to it," said Cecelia. "Queen Binah did bless the land, that it should remain pure and its access restricted to a privileged few. But the part that your friend's father left out is that _my_ people were the first to bless it, and it was they who warned her to place her own protective spell in the event that their magic was not enough.

"You see, the hills sit atop a large portion of a great aquifer. My people have known about it for many centuries, and the easiest way to access the water is to dig into the Sei'espian. Now, some of the advisers who lived during Queen Binah's time were rapacious creatures, and they wanted to exploit the Sei'espian in the hopes they could increase the yield of their private crops and profit in other ways.

"Well, my Ladies weren't going to allow any of it! So, after all the years of having distanced themselves from Meridian, they didn't send representatives—oh no! They went _directly_ to the Queen, and they warned her that if she or any of her court exploited the Sei'espian, and the intention was not the save lives, large swaths of Metamoor would become unstable. Water would have vanished or been befouled. Many lives could have been lost.

"Queen Binah's advisors tried their damnedest to block out their warnings, and they even resorted to the vilest slanders. But Queen Binah listened to the Ladies. She supported the effort to erect statues of Aaronagim throughout the Sei'espian to serve as watchers. And she placed a powerful spell upon the land: that anyone who was not blessed either by the Light of Meridian or a child of the _Ozhea Ayiiðae_ would be killed by the stone guardians."

Finally, the shape-shifter paused. She sighed and pointed at the map.

"Prince Phobos intends to try and march upon the hills. He shall have me march the army upon this path _here_, and he wants to begin draining the aquifer from _here_."

"But he can't march there without the permission of the Light of Meridian," said Caleb.

"Or the permission of a child of the _Ozhea Ayiiðae_," said Cecelia with wide, regretful eyes. "That's what _I_ am—what all Aaronagim are."

Caleb frowned and, before realising, slipped a hand onto one of hers.

"Oh, Cedric... No..."

The shape-shifter turned her hand so that their palms touched. She squeezed his hand and said, "I can't disobey him, Caleb. He compelled me to, and I can't revoke it... But I _can_ give more than one blessing."

Caleb squeezed harder than she, and hope glimmered in his eyes.

"Caleb," she began, "son of Julian and heir of the Rebellion, may the _Ozhea Ayiiðae_ be our witness that I bestow upon you the highest blessing. May you tread upon the Sei'espian and no harm befall you. May the comrades who travel with you be touched by this same blessing. O' _Ozhea Ayiiðae, malisois hish._"

The rebel leader smiled softly. He stroked a strand of hair from her face behind her ear.

"Thank you, my noble," he said, "for this high honour." Then he kissed her cheek, causing her to blush and her glasses to slide down her face. She kissed him in return and leaned against him.

Caleb felt his own face swell with heat. When comrades in the rebellion embraced him, that was in the context of... well, camaraderie, and a member of the opposite sex did not hug their complement. That sort of thing was reserved strictly for lovers; so when the Guardians hugged him or leaned on him or displayed any sort of earthling affection, the action jarred Caleb's cultural familiarity. And now, to have _Cedric_—Cecelia, whatever name or form the shape-shifter donned—making similar physical contact made him even more uncomfortable.

Oh, yes, yes, they had been _far_ more intimate. And Caleb would put down a large bet that the evening would end with some kind of tryst. But unlike with the Guardians, he felt a twinge of something even more informal—something _dangerous_.

"Wow! That sun just set so quickly!" he exclaimed suddenly, and he leaped to his feet and stretched. "Mmm! We really ought to head back now, eh? Wouldn't want to worry the girls!"

Cecelia nodded and rose. Hooking her arm around his, she said, "We should be off, especially since I left a delicious treat at the shop, and I would _love_ to share it with you."

"Dessert?"

"Oh, yes," she hissed with grin.

Caleb's face was probably glowing red at that point. _Of course_, he thought, _I wasn't going to get out of a tryst _that_ easily. Uhh! If I'm lucky, though, the old serpent will keep the body she's currently donning_.

* * *

><p>Switching on a few lights so that they could navigate, Cecelia led her young escort to the office in the back. She set aside her possessions and took his coat. Then she set aside her glasses, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gazed into his eyes.<p>

"I hope you have a sweet tooth," she said.

Caleb smirked and asked, "Do I have a choice?"

"Well, you could always skip," she said. Then she turned and sauntered to her desk. "Not that I recommend it."

_Of course,_ he thought as she opened the box that sat on her desk. Inhaling and exhaling rhythmically, he stepped closer and glanced inside.

"Lerynian figs?" he puzzled. "Is that... Is that _kukoa_ bean syrup drizzled on them?"

"Mm hmm!" Cecelia nodded. She let Caleb reach in and select a fig before she did.

What a pleasant surprise! What a relief! The rebel savoured the syrup-coated fruit as Cecelia continued:

"It's one of the few things you humans brought to Metamoor that we Aaronagim enjoy. In fact, Prince Phobos had a tiny orchard of Lerynian fig trees planted just for me."

"Is that so?" Caleb asked as he finished the fig and licked his fingers.

The shape-shifter's smile slowly faded, and she set aside the remaining half of her fig. She sat behind her desk, weaving her fingers together and gazing vacantly through the room.

Caleb frowned. The night should have ended on a joyful note, but no... Some dusty memory of Phobos had been brushed off and turned the easygoing serpent into a morose mamba. Shaking his head, Caleb nevertheless joined her side and placed a hand upon her shoulder. The noble gazed at him slowly and flashed a brief smile.

"What a fool I am, eh?" she wondered with a quivering voice. "Still pining over a man whom no longer exists—or maybe I'm further fooling myself? Maybe he never existed. But I'd like to believe that if he had never loved me—not even for a fleeting moment—he would have never planted them and said that they were for me."

Caleb heard that old, familiar heartache that just would not leave the noble alone. The poor creature still clung to the sheer hope that one day, the Prince would return to being the man with whom she had fallen in love.

Kneeling before the noble, he held one of those beautiful hands and said, "I know it's hard to lose the one you love. But no matter how many tears you shed, that person isn't coming back. You need to look at the world, look at the present, how things _are_. You need to move forward and do what's right for you... and for others."

Brushing away an errant tear, the shape-shifter said, "I suppose you're right, rebel. Still, it's difficult—not having someone to fill the hole in my heart."

Caleb cupped one of her cheeks. For a moment, he contemplated that he would do anything to colour those cheeks with happiness again. And in the next moment, he leaned closely and sealed his lips upon hers.

Cecelia gasped and panted when they parted. A fine scarlet had been painted across her face, and her violet eyes flashed a passionate fuchsia.

Caleb's fighting instinct had nearly been tripped when she leaped upon him, pinning him to the ground; but it was quickly stopped by the barrage kisses she laid upon his face and his neck. In turn, he tugged at the edges of her blouse, and he managed to get her and himself sitting. He pried off her top and caressed her soft breasts with rough hands, eliciting a moan.

"Do you want this?" he snarled, and she nodded imperceptibly. He grabbed her hips and snarled again, "_Do you?_"

"Yes!" she gasped, and in an instance, the last of her ensemble and Caleb's clothes laid crumpled on the ground beside them.

Now this was the kind of body Caleb could enjoy: ripe flesh, ample and gorgeous, willing and easily conquered with each caress. He molded that juicy femininity as if he were working clay, and the shape-shifter quivered and gasped and groaned and fondled her lover.

"_Ca... Ca... Cale-e-e-eb..._"

By the gods, she was _begging_ him! She needed him so desperately, after sleeping alone and cold for innumerable nights. That frigid Prince—how could he let his serpent go cold? Oh, he would warm the poor creature, do what the royal could not—he! A lowly, thuggish rebel stoke the noble's fire.

"_Ah! Caleb!_"

Oh gods! Her hips fit perfectly with his hips, her rhythm matching perfectly with his. By the gods, how wonderful she felt inside! The bliss was maddening—surely, she had cast a spell on him, but gods! How good it felt!

The young lover managed to glimpsed that beautiful, crimson-gold face as the noble trembled beneath him before he succumbed for his own climax. He arched against and groaned until his breath was spent, and he relaxed against her.

"Damn it," he cursed. "Are you... Are you sure you want to change back? Not that you're masculine form isn't a handsome sight and all..."

Her laughter was short and shallow, and she stroked his sweating face lovingly.

"I like this body, too," she said, "but I like being male better."

"Oh, well," he said. "It was worth a try, eh?" And he lay beside her, limbs tangled as they enjoyed the glow of one another just a while longer.

* * *

><p><strong>Annotations:<strong>

_Queen Binah _(Name) Her name derives from one of the _sephirot_ on the Kabbalistic Tree of Life. Binah means 'understanding.' As for Elyon's mother, when she appears in this story, in keeping with names derived from Hebrew, I shall call her 'Chesed,' which means 'loving-kindness,' as opposed to 'Weira,' the name from the cartoons.

_"So, after all the years of having distanced themselves from Meridian, they didn't send representatives—oh no! They went directly to the Queen..."_ (Historical Note) In the universe of this story, Cedric's people have been suspicious of humans ever since they arrived on Metamoor. Altercations with some members of the Line of Escanor led them to cut diplomatic ties, and some nasty battles have broken out between the Aaronagim against humans and Galhots.

Queen Binah was the first to apologise for past wrong-doings. Her daughter continued the process of reaching out to the Aaronagim. This is one reason why Cedric has managed to get into the palace but also why he is the only one serving, as many Aaronagim are still wary of the royals.

_Ozhea Ayiiðae_ (Aaronagish) Great Mother. One of two supreme deities in the Aaronagish pantheon.

_Malisois hish_ (Aaronagish) Let it be; lit. 'allow this.'


	7. Enchanted Lands

**Chapter 7**

Before Hay Lin retired for the night, Caleb asked her to call the other girls and tell them to gather first thing before school. With a yawn and a dismissive wave, she assured him that she would.

_She'll probably pass out on her bed as soon as she gets in her room_, he thought as he rolled his eyes. Then he slipped into the basement and flopped on his bed.

All the while, his memories of the night with Cedric kept him awake. His face swelled at the recollection of how tightly he held him, like a snake coiling about its prey—_or its mate_, added Caleb, much to the rising welt that Shame had bestowed.

His affection for the old serpent should have been tempered by their history. Caleb had not forgotten the companions he had lost, either due to Cedric's orders or the direct blows that the shape-shifter had dealt.

Of course, Caleb had cut down a few of the Prince's soldiers; but that was all in self-defense. Peaceful negotiations had been cast away years ago, after the Prince had murdered Queen Chesed and the King. The rebels were justified in using violence, but none of them reveled in killing. Phobos's thugs? They were so drunk on the authority that they lauded over the citizens, they cackled with sinister delight when they broke a farmer's fingers or ravished a miller's daughter or even son. Taverns were sacked and robbed, crops seized, wells befouled, plagues induced by Phobos's sorcery—Caleb had lived with it for most of his life, but he knew that the frequency of such crimes did not mean they were normal, did not mean they should come to pass.

Therefore, even with Cedric's new-found morality, even while he cooperated for a better cause, Caleb's stomach inverted when he thought about the lord, nude and eager to please the rebel leader. Certainly, the snake supplicated genuinely, and Caleb, in the heat of their trysts, savored the submissive contortions of Cedric's face . However, their exchanges did not feel like 'just business,' as earthlings said. And Cedric had told him that helping the rebellion was only part of the reason that he set up these liaisons.

_Is the old snake really looking for love?_ he wondered. _And why me? Is it convenience—just how we crossed paths? I guess it's because I'm the rebel leader, after all._

As his brain battled with itself, the battle was puntuated by visions of Cedric, in male and female form, kneeling before the rebel leader, the noble's mouth caressing him in ways that he could never speak aloud. He ended up waking before the crack of dawn, one of his hands nestled somewhere personal, and he jolted out of his cot.

After washing himself and slapping cold water on his face for a good ten minutes, he dressed and waited for the girls to arrive.

* * *

><p>"Man, this had better be good," grumbled Irma.<p>

"Tell me about it," groused Cornelia as the girls gallumphed into the basement. "I was having the most awesome dream about Vance Michael Justin."

Tempting as it was for Caleb, he made no comment. After the night that he had experienced, the gods might have smote him for any hypocritical remark.

"So, what was so important that you had to call us in so early?" asked Will with a yawn.

"Oh! And how was your date with Rick Hoffman's sister?" asked Hay Lin, to which all the girls but Cornelia 'ooo'-ed.

Faster than Caleb, Cornelia said, "It _wasn't_ a date. It was a _favor_. Rick's sister is blind, and she just needed a little help around town. Right, Caleb?"

The young man rolled his eyes. Earthling girls... Why were they such a gossipy bunch?

"She isn't just his sister," he said. "Cecelia Hoffman is the Seer."

"What?" the girls gasped. "When did you—"

"I didn't suspect a thing until we arrived at Barbucci and Canepa's."

"The _really_ fancy restaurant?" gasped Hay Lin.

"Woo! The Hoffmans've got expensive tastes," said Irma.

"How'd you afford _that_?" asked Will.

Caleb groaned and rubbed his face. "Would you just stop and listen? Girls! They can't get their priorities straight..." He sighed before continuing.

"She slipped hints that she knew about Meridian when we brought up politics—Irma! As much as I would like to hear your opinion," he snapped, "just hold that thought until _after_ I'm done. Cecelia asked me about the politics of this country, and I said that I honestly didn't know that much myself. Then she laughed and leaned close and said: 'Perhaps I should ask you about _other_ lands and movements for liberation _there_.'

"I thought that was strange, especially the way she said it. But when I took her to the park afterward, she finally disclosed who she was.

"Her brother, Rick, works inside Phobos's castle as one of his courtiers. Cecelia went into hiding after he was ordered to kill her, and he faked her murder. I don't know how much time he has until he's caught, but he managed to arrange for her to meet me here. He hopes that the Seer will be safe until we complete our next mission."

Then he recounted the tale of the Sei'espian, of Queen Chesed, and of Lord Cedric's people, the Aaronagim. He showed the girls the map and warned them of the dire consequences facing Meridian if they failed.

"Draining it won't just be a detriment to the land," he continued. "Cedric is the only Aaronag to have sworn his loyalty to Phobos. The rest of his people are suspicious of anyone related to the royal family, and their cooperation with Queen Chesed was tentative. If Phobos drains the Sei'espian, the word _will_ reach the Aaronagim. They won't hesitate to go to war, and trust me, these are the _last_ people you ever want to war with."

Hay Lin shuddered.

"Cedric's mean enough as it is," she said. "I'd hate to see a whole army of them, riled up."

"So, how are we gonna get any where near those hills?" asked Taranee.

"Don't worry," said Caleb, "the Seer is helping me with the blessing. All we need to do is plan an ambush in the forest nearby. I'm returning to Meridian today and making plans with the rebels. I'll send Blunk when the time comes."

"We'll keep an eye out for him," said Will.

"Or better yet," added Irma, "our _noses_..."

* * *

><p>Although Caleb assured his comrades that he had received a blessing from a trustworthy source and that it would apply to them all, many remained wary.<p>

"How do we know this isn't a trick?" asked one rebel.

"The Aaronagim can't be trusted," said another. "They might hate Phobos, but they'll do anything to make humans and Galhots suffer."

"I trust the Seer," said Caleb, "and I trust her contacts."

"How do we know _she_ isn't lying?" said another rebel. "How do we know she wasn't trying to build our trust the last time?"

"Because the Seer has so much to lose," said Caleb. "Her brother is stuck in the palace, serving Phobos to their dismay. If Phobos finds out that her brother didn't kill her, he'll be begging for death before they deal it.

"And if that isn't enough to satisfy some of you, then know this: if Phobos defiles the Sei'espian, the Aaronagim will declare war; and they won't hesitate to destroy him _and_ everyone else, regardless of their alignment."

No one could argue with that. Therefore, the rebels quieted their protests and plotted their ambush.

* * *

><p>On the day that Phobos's army was due to march to the Sei'espian, the rebels hid themselves among the strong branches of the Accolonian maples and the shadows offered by the thick Percevalite bushes. Blunk had brought the Guardians as soon as he could wrest them from their studies, and Hay Lin kept her keen ears out for the sounds of marching soldiers.<p>

When the army arrived, Cedric led them in his fearsome true form. The rebel's heart sank. He did not worry for Cedric's safety; his hide was so thick, an arrow could barely scratch him, a blade barely scathe him. On the other hand, the noble had no trouble crushing anyone beneath his coils or ripping them asunder.

_Let's just hope he only stuns them,_ he thought.

As the army marched closer, Hay Lin noticed that their steps became softer and softer; and from the way most of them talked, she could tell they were spooked.

"This is a damned fool's errand," said one soldier. "I heard that this place is crawling with demons, and they don't answer to the Prince."

"Well, I heard there are ancient shades that suck out your soul," said another.

"Worse yet, lads," growled a third, "it's the ghosts of the old queens. They take on the form of great dragons and light your body and soul on fire, so that ya burn up, and it's as though you never existed."

Hay Lin snickered at all the wild tales. She leaned closely to Caleb and said, "Talk about believing six impossible things before breakfast. They'll believe six contradictory stories!"

The forest began to rumble with Cedric's frustration. He turned to his men and snarled, "Keep your noise to yourselves! If I hear one more coward, I'll have your tongue cut out! Understand?"

His men cringed as he towered before them, baring his teeth. His attention was suddenly turned to the air, and his fork tongue flickered—in Caleb's direction, of all places.

"Hey," whispered Irma, "anyone else smell that?"

Caleb did. The odor wafted through the air, but not even a breeze blew. It smelled musty with a hint of mildew and a hint of something else he could barely recognize—

_It smells like _catacombs, he thought as the air developed an unexpected chill.

"What sorcery is this?" growled Cedric. Then he turned to his men and commanded, "Keep marching! Move, you slugs!" And he began to drive the army with the impatient crack of his tail. All the while, the soldiers grunted and cursed beneath their breath.

_"... Sansilos..."_

_"... Sonðisaos..."_

"What was _that_?" wondered the bewildered soldiers, and their pace slowed again.

_"... Sansilos..."_

_"... Sansilosssss..."_

_"... Sonðisaosssss..."_

Those rebels who could peer at Caleb without being seen by the enemy did, their eyes wide with alarm. They heard those whispers just as well, and they likely smelled the same air and felt the same chill that Caleb had. He had no means by which to comfort them, though, and he prayed that none of his comrades became terrified enough to expose themselves.

The voices had not terrified Cedric. He gnashed his teeth and whipped his tail violently enough to knock down some of his men.

"Come out, you cowards!" he roared. "I'll find you and rip you to shreds!"

Thunder rumbled beyond the trees, close to the Sei'espian. The wind roared through the forest, knocking some of the soldiers onto their backs and threatening to pull some of the rebels from the branches.

Finally, the ethereal voices cried:

_"Sonsilofe, o__ž__ea Sedrii!"_

_"Fola__š__iva usetesisae—"_

_"—massa __Š__ohafeth usakhosist!"_

_"Masthahensail!"_ roared the Aaronag lord. _"Hish sisisae dei!"_

The voices multiplied, and each one roared with fury, creating a tempestuous legion of incoherent rage. Cedric's soldiers turned and fled as the spirits struck Cedric again and again, managing to wound that thick hide and draw blood.

"I have already given my blessing!" he cried. "We have every right to be here!"

"_You are unwelcome, mindless destroyer!"_

Cedric had suffered enough of the spirits' retaliation and curses. Finally, he conceded, fleeing with his army and leaving the rebels successful but confused.

Caleb and the Guardians emerged first, treading on the path that the army had tried to take.

"_Oookaaay_... You know, as much as I like _somebody_ doing my work for me," said Irma, "I'll admit, I'm a _wee_ bit creeped out that there was no _body_ to be seen."

"Yeah, what was all that?" wondered a worried Hay Lin.

"You mean, _'who?'_" said Taranee, and she whimpered.

"Those must have been the spirits of the Sei'espian," said Caleb. "I must admit, I'm as confused as you."

"Maybe the spirits are able to detect the intentions of anyone who comes close to the hills," suggested Will. "Just because Cedric is one of their kind doesn't mean they'll see eye-to-eye."

That was possible, thought Caleb, but that led him to a terrible realization: since in reality, Cedric had been the one to bless Caleb and the rebels, after that nasty altercation, chances were that the blessing meant nothing to the spirits. And if they all knew what was good for them, the rebels and the Guardians would retreat to the city before the spirits returned.

"Caleb," said Aldarn as he descended from a tree, "let's go back. I don't want to take any chances with the spirits."

"Well, at least we have this much comfort," began Caleb, "that Phobos won't ever get his hands on the—"

_"Ah-eeeee!"_

Everyone turned toward the shrieking Cornelia. No further than two steps from her stood a female spirit in long, elaborate robes. She glowed like a Galadelien elf, and her features were just as fair. But her robes were too heavy, and rather than Galadelien rosmåling, the embroidery was less ornate and reminiscent of—

_An Aaronag noble_, thought Caleb.

"Cornelia!" Will rushed to the earth guardian's side.

"She... She touched my hand," she stuttered. "She touched my hand, and I—"

_"Guardians..."_

Caleb and the girls stiffened when the spirit spoke. The rebels watched with wide eyes, some with slack jaws, at the entity.

_"Guardians..."_ she said. _"Come to the hills..."_

Caleb stepped forth and asked, "Who are you?"

_"Come... Come with me..."_

"Huh! Pleasure to meet you, Come With Me," said Irma.

"But who are you?" Caleb asked again. "I mean, how do we know it's safe to go—"

_"Caleb, son of Julian, and heir of the Rebellion..."_

Those were the titles to which Cedric had referred to him three nights before, he recalled.

_"Come to the hills... You and your warriors are welcome there... Come, for the Ladies await you..."_

Then the spirit turned and began to trek to the Sei'espian.

More rebels emerged from the bushes and branches, glancing every which way and whispering to one another. Caleb was also quite confused by this revelation, and he was curious as to why the guardians of the hills were granting them access.

"Caleb!" exclaimed Cornelia as she grabbed him by the arm. "Where are you going?"

"We've gotta find out what the Ladies have to say," he said. "What if they have information we can use to defeat Phobos?"

"And what if they're just trying to _lure_ you up there?" she said. "They're _Cedric's_ people. And even they don't get along with him, that doesn't mean they're gonna cozy up to us."

"Cornelia's right, Caleb," said Aldarn.

The rebel leader and looked at the spirit. She had stopped and was looking back at them, her nonchalant expression ever-present.

"I trust her," he said, "and I trust the blessing that we received. If the spirits wanted to harm us, they would have done so by now. So whether you follow or not, I'm going."

_And maybe if I am alone, they'll answer all the questions I have about Cedric..._

But he would not be alone. Will joined him, and she was followed by the Guardians. Soon, the rebels mustered their courage and their faith in their leader's judgment. They departed the dark forest and marched toward the sacred hills.

* * *

><p><strong>Annotations:<strong>

_Sansilos_ (Aaronagish) Heed (us).

_Sonðisaos_ (Aaronagish) Turn back.

_Sonsilofe, o__ž__ea Sedrii!_ (Aaronagish) Heed (us), great Cedric!

_Fola__š__iva usetesisae massa __Š__ohafeth usakhosist_ (Aaronagish) Blood shall spill in order to prevent disorder (imbalance).

_Masthahensail! Hish sisisae dei!_ (Aaronagish) Deceivers! This shall not be!


End file.
